


Sidelined

by WaywardOneshots (orphan_account)



Series: Just My Dumb Luck [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, Gender Unspecific READER, Light Angst with a Happy Ending, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Mild Language, Protective Bobby Singer, Singer House
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-11
Updated: 2014-08-11
Packaged: 2018-02-12 18:03:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2119545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/WaywardOneshots
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You had sworn your crutches off two weeks too early but you appreciated the extra freedom. And you had enjoyed throwing the blasted things from the second story window nearly as much. - Bobby looks after the reader, who now has a serious permanent limp, because he knows how difficult a hunter's life can be. Especially when they've been sidelined. READER</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sidelined

            You took a hard breath as you reached the bottom of the stairs. It was almost impossible to tell if the task was more difficult without the crutches or with them. You had sworn them off two weeks too early, that was what Bobby told you anyways, but you appreciated the extra freedom. And you had enjoyed throwing the blasted things from the second story window nearly as much. It was something you had done during a particularly heated argument with the old man; but in the end, he had forgiven you. Like always. He was just glad that you hadn’t thrown yourself out the damned window.

            Bobby had been right by your side through the whole thing. He had been with you when the demon attacked. He had killed the thing. His eyes had kept watch over you in the ambulance. His truck had carried you both to the hospital and back for weeks of physical therapy. After every session, Bobby would meet you in the parking lot without so much as a word passing between you on the ride home. No ‘how’d it go?’. No ‘it gets better’. And you had been glad for that at some point. The last thing you wanted to do was be babied by the old man.

            The diagnosis you had been given a few weeks in had been devastating. Full range of motion would likely never return. The best you were told to hope for was a half-bend at your knee. This meant you couldn’t run. This meant that you couldn’t crouch or kneel. For someone in your line of work, the diagnosis had been close to a death sentence.

            You remember that you came home that day with tears in your eyes. You had been a damn good hunter or near close to it. And now, for the rest of your life, you wouldn’t be able to stop all the things out there that were killing people. The next time physical therapy rolled around, you locked yourself in your room for an entire day. Bobby had nearly beaten down the door in an effort to keep you from giving up. It hadn’t done much good in the way of morale.

            You straightened yourself up and pulled the backpack onto your shoulders. It seemed heavier than it had upstairs. You gasped as your leg ached and tensed under the weight. At this rate, you’d be lucky to reach the end of the hallway and even luckier to make the front porch. You take a step forward determinedly. And then another. Your leg hesitated the slightest bit and it was just enough to bring you toward the floor in a heap. You reached out and, with a muffled curse, attempted to cushion the landing.

            “…the hell is going on over here?” Bobby’s voice came from the other side of the house.

            The hunter was well on his way over to you, there was no denying that. This wasn’t the first time Bobby had come across you after you had pushed your body too far. And, if you couldn’t get your damn leg to cooperate, it wouldn’t be the last either. You were tired of…well, everything. Bobby found you in the floor before you could mope any longer.

            “You damn idjit.” Bobby muttered as he caught sight of the bag on your shoulders.

            He offered you a hand up and you gratefully accepted. You have to angle your leg just the right way in order to fully stand. When you do find your feet, you let go of Bobby’s hand almost immediately. He chose not to. Like it or not, he was going to make sure that you didn’t fall down on your ass again. You took a step back from him and leaned against the wall.

            “I’m fine.” You said after a second; it was a blatant lie and one that he had become quite used to hearing.

            He rolled his eyes at you and reached up to your tired arms. Bobby put a hand on either side of your shoulders. It became clear that he was trying to take the pack from you. At that point, you had fully given up on leaving. You manage to shrug off the bag with a little help. He dropped the bag to one side of the hall and turned back to you.

            Bobby looked tired. Over the months that you had stayed with him, it had become clear that it was almost a personality trait of his. More often than not, he would stay up through the night doing research for one thing or another. It was just your luck that you had chosen this night in particular to sneak out on. Or, more accurately, to be caught trying to leave.

            “Now, what on God’s green earth did you think you were doing?”

            You shook your head at him breathlessly. It didn’t matter now. Your most recent collapse was all the proof you needed that you could no longer hunt. Going into a hunt in your condition was the epitome of a bad idea. A suicide run in every sense of the term. The djinn fifty miles south of here would have to wait for some other bumbling idiot to stumble across it. Oh, well.

            He gave a hard sigh as he looked you over. “You don’t have to go off by yourself, kid. Like I told ya when you first got here, you have a home here if you want it.”

            It was a great offer, it really was, but hunting was something that you were used to. Hunting was a part of you. If you couldn’t hunt anymore there wasn’t much else that you would be happy doing. After all, most hunters didn’t retire. Once you knew about all that was out there it was impossible to return to your old way of life. Ignorance wasn’t exactly bliss; in fact, a lot of the time it was what got you killed.

            “I know that, Bobby.” You closed your eyes for a moment. Your leg had begun to ache sharply and you tried to ignore it as you continued speaking. “But I’m of no use to anyone around here or anywhere else. I can’t hunt anymore.”

            “You’re not useless, damn it.”

            The look in his eyes told you that you couldn’t have been more wrong. You remembered seeing a picture on the mantelpiece a few days earlier of the old man in a wheelchair with a group of other people. If anybody came close to understanding what you were going through, it would’ve been Bobby. You turned away from him just the slightest bit, embarrassed. If there was one thing you were known for it wasn’t discretion.

            “Hunting isn’t all there is. If I had given up when I got sidelined I’m sure that a whole lotta folks out there wouldn’t be topside right now.” He watched carefully as you listened. “Most of them you’ve even seen around the house this past week or two. You can’t just throw in the towel, kid.”

            You nearly rolled your eyes at that. There were one too many speeches like that heard during your time in physical therapy. ‘You’re so young’, ‘you have so much to live for’ and, your personal favorite, ‘you can get back up from this’. Because nothing said recovery like throwing inspirational puns at you the second you hobbled through the door. Bobby as good as read your thoughts as he continued.

            “Now, I’m not going to give you any of that half-hearted, cookie cutter, get well soon crap. Lord knows I’m no motivational speaker and you deserve more than that.” Bobby cleared his throat as he thought back. “My neck’s been saved more than once on your watch. As far as I’m concerned, you’re a damn hero. And that hasn’t changed. You still do a hell of a lot of good around here, even if you don’t seem to think so.”

            “There’s nothing heroic about answering the phones…” You muttered distractedly.

            Bobby shrugged his hat down further over his forehead. “Like hell there isn’t. If we weren’t here to back up those hunters in the field, a lot of them would be dead or in jail by now instead of doing their jobs.”

            You shifted on your feet unsteadily as you thought it over. He was right, as always. You had managed to help him a little bit over the past few weeks. Even if you couldn’t hunt any more you sure had a hell of a lot of experience regarding what not to do. It wasn’t something you were proud of, but it sure beat giving up. The old man didn’t like quitters. Stubbornness was something that he encouraged most of the time.

            Your leg ached again as you looked into the study. The couch was quite a distance away now and you weren’t too sure that you would make it on your own. Bobby could see that you were getting tired. He moved a little closer and put your arm on his shoulder in an effort to take some of the weight off of your bad leg.

            Bobby said as you prepared to move. “Besides, hearing you totter back and forth upstairs is as close to comic relief as it gets in this house most days.”

            You glanced over to him as you took your next few steps and caught a slight grin on his face. Smug old man. You stumbled just the slightest bit at the distraction but Bobby kept you upright. You were relieved to see that the two of you were halfway to the couch already.

            “Looks like I owe you one this time, Bobby.” You mumble as you take another step.

            “Yeah, well, don’t go making a habit out of it, kid.” He looked to you after a second. “I’m not sure I can keep up with any more of your I.O.U.’s.”

 


End file.
